


Phone Call

by Spellfire01



Category: Until Dawn (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Car Accidents, Depression, F/M, First Meetings, Hannah and Beth are dead, Medication, Mental Health Issues, Mental Instability, Mentions of hospitals, Mentions of neglect, Panic Attacks, Scars, Schizoaffective Disorder, a reascued puppy, hallucination mentions, mentions of body horror, wrong numbers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-20
Updated: 2016-01-12
Packaged: 2018-04-27 07:47:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5039995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spellfire01/pseuds/Spellfire01
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Is this Dr. Hill? It's Josh Washington."</p><p>He hoped he had dialled the right number. He was sure he had memorised it to the point of being able to close his eyes and jab it into his phone correctly with the number of times he had called the man for guidance when he was struggling to fight through one of his more unstable episodes.</p><p>Like now, for example.</p><blockquote>
  <p>Updates will be irregular, I will occasionally post updates about the fic and gladly answer any questions you have <b><a href="http://spellfire01.tumblr.com/tagged/phone-call">here</a></b><br/></p>
</blockquote>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was prompted over on tumblr by Incrediblyinterested's tags on this old, quick comic I drew: http://spellfire01.tumblr.com/post/130467116668/the-i-called-the-wrong-number-and-started-talking

"Is this Dr. Hill? It's Josh Washington." 

He hoped he had dialled the right number. He was sure he had memorised it to the point of being able to close his eyes and jab it into his phone correctly with the number of times he had called the man for guidance when he was struggling to fight through one of his more unstable episodes.

Like now, for example.

His hand shook, pressing the device a little too hard against his ear, his other hand wrapped white-knuckled around the base of his half-full beer bottle like a lifeline.

No response. Whatever, he was past the point of caring about whether his therapist was listening or not. He just needed to talk to someone, imaginary or otherwise.

"The meds you gave me aren't working. They're doing jack all for anything apart from making me ill. I was released from hospital again a few days ago, the doctor said I should take it easy and keep from stressing." Josh breathed out a single, unamused chuckle. "Like that's gonna happen because you said the pills would make them go away and they aren't going away they're getting worse and I can't-, I don't want any more bullshit I just want it to stop."

Josh paused, closing his eyes for a long moment. He loosened his vice-like grip on his beer bottle once again.

Breathe in for four seconds, hold for three, exhale for seven.

He raised the rim of the bottle to his lips again, took a swig while waiting for the doctor's reply.

Nothing again. Okay.

"Hannah and Beth are here and they're sitting on my bed. If I leave the room something bad will happen, I know. They won't listen to me and-and I think I'm going to be sick." Josh explained, his voice hushing to barely a whisper. He opened his eyes, his vision blurry though an annoying film of tears. He forced himself not to sneak a glance behind him. He knew the sight that would await him if he did; His little sisters, their faces all but ripped off with terrible, dagger-like teeth protruding from glasgow smiles. Josh covered his mouth, his stomach lurching at the thought alone. It was still grotesquely visible inside his restless mind. He sniffed, feeling a familiar wetness trail down his cheeks.

"...Is anyone there?" He asked shakily, hearing his voice crack minutely. "This didn't go to voice mail so either you like hearing me flip out or my imagination's playing tricks on me. Dr. Hill. Please answer me."

Josh waited for what felt like an eternity, the jumble of anxieties in his stomach and the lump in his throat seemed to double the longer the silence stretched.

There was an unsure "Uhm.." from the other side of the line and for a second Josh thought his stomach had flipped over.

"Wait...This is my therapist, right?" He breathed. He barely heard his belated reply over the frantic pounding of his heart against his ribs.

"...Nnnno?" A feminine voice asked, their tone sounded conflicted.

Josh froze up, eyes wide. "Well. _Shit."_

He didn't know what to say. Neither did the person on the other side of the line, apparently. It took a few seconds to really sink in, the fact that he had just revealed everything to a complete stranger, things he hadn't even told his parents about. Not that they would care anyway. He covered his mouth with his hand again, trying to keep down the bile that threatened to rise in his throat. Josh swallowed, sitting up straighter while wanting to get back into bed and curl up again. That would mean having to face his sisters though.

He was out of options.

He couldn't just hang up on this person who had intruded into his life without a hint of warning and, shit, they probably though he was crazy now.

Maybe they were right. His parents certainly thought so. They had paid most of his therapists to play a harsh, discording game of pass the parcel with himself as the object in question but _he wasn't crazy_ , he needed help because he was so fucked up and he couldn't- he couldn't breathe-

"Hey, shhhhh. Calm down. It sounds like you're having a panic attack." The voice said in a concerned, soothing sort of tone that he had only ever heard from some of the nurses who had tended to him for what seemed like the majority of his life.

He took a deep, unsteady breath and tried his best ignore the click that sounded as he tried to hold back more tears.

"That's it..Breathe out slowly and keep repeating." The voice advised.

He followed it's instruction with a minute nod, breathing out slowly through his mouth and following the breathing techniques he'd learnt about. He focused on his heart, listening intensely as it slowed down it's pounding. 

"...Do you feel any better?"

Usually he would have thought of some sarcastic or humorous response because of course he didn't feel better but at the same time he guessed he kind of did. He nodded again before remembering they couldn't see him. "Yeah...Thanks." He murmured, turning his beer bottle in his fingers as a failed distraction from his thoughts.

"Don't mention it. My name's Sam by the way. Yours is Josh, right?" Sam asked in that same cool tone.

"Don't wear it out."

A single chuckle sounded over the other end of the line. This somehow lifted some of the tension between them, his anxieties crawling back slowly. "I'm sorry for eavesdropping, I didn't know." ' _what I was getting myself into_ ' Josh's thoughts finished for them.

Josh didn't say anything for a few long seconds, pursing his lips. He knew Sam hadn't been listening intentionally but "Why didn't you hang up on me? I called the wrong number."

There was a long pause and a soft humming, signalling that the other was thinking. "..You sounded like you needed help. Not _that_ kind of help, I meant-"

"Yeah, yeah I know what you meant."

"So...What's wrong?"

Josh blinked slowly and furrowed his eyebrows. Sam couldn't be serious, could they? "...You're joshing me."

"I'm not." He could almost hear their amused smile at the unintentional pun.

"You're not my therapist." He pointed out, his confusion growing.

"I know. I'm a complete stranger so I can't judge anything, I usually find that helps more when I need to talk to someone. If you want you can delete my number and never talk to me again if it doesn't work out for you?" Sam's answer did make sense, Dr. Hill had records of all of his medical history, his previous therapists... The man knew almost everything about him.

"...That sounds reasonable."

"Good. Lets just start with some introductions before we get to the heavy stuff. I'm Sam, a girl that currently lives in California who's planning to get a puppy next week."

Josh barely felt the corners of his lips twitch up at the last part. "I'm Josh, I also live in California and I don't have any pets...What kind of puppy do you want?" Maybe a distraction would help. Sam, she was very good at distracting him apparently. Well, she made him nearly smile at least, that hadn't happened in a while. She wasn't about to magically cure him of any personal or mental torture that he was going though but maybe...Maybe he would let Sam distract him with her words another day after the call was over.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A week had passed.
> 
> Josh hadn't deleted Sam’s number, he just wanted to find out what kind of puppy she ended up getting. That’s what he told himself at least.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided to continue this as it got good feedback. Let's see where this takes us, shall we?

A week had passed.

Josh hadn't deleted Sam’s number, he just wanted to find out what kind of puppy she ended up getting. That’s what he told himself at least.

It was easier than admitting he needed someone to pester every day to keep him feeling somewhat stable and gave him something to do other than just laying in bed and eating or looking after himself when he absolutely had to. He had Chris to talk to but Chris was at College in Florida. He had known him for most of his life and they had always lived in the same state and been inseparable and even when he dropped out of college due to illness and everything getting worse he had put up a strong front only to break down as soon as he was at home again. Taking to Chris every day about his problems would make him worry. Josh wanted him to focus on his work and have fun, not soak up all his problems like a stress sponge.

So here he was, talking to Sam for the seventh time so far.

He had called her twice yesterday but she hadn't judged him for it, instead saying that she glad he was talking to her because something about how her aunt was boring her half to death and she needed someone to complain to about. Not that he had minded. He had breathed out a single chuckle and said something that he couldn't remember now.

Currently, Sam was doing the dishes, muffled, upbeat-sounding music playing in the background. “I've tuned it up so you can listen to it, it’s one of my favourites!” She insisted. He could hear her smile through her words, he imagined she had a lovely smile.

“I can’t hear it over the sound of your breathing, Sammy.” He didn't know when the nickname had moulded into a thing that he called her but she didn't seem to mind.

“Sorry, I'm not turning it up any louder- Oh! Josh do you have a Skype?” She asked, changing the topic suddenly.

Josh frowned in confusion, staring up at the dormer above his bed like it would give him an answer. “…How do you know I have a computer?”

“Oh, uh. I just assumed.” Sam said, some of her sunshine being lost in her voice.

“I do, I was just messing with you.”

“Oh, haha.” She replied, her sarcasm sounding amused rather than venomous. A clinking of china ringed as she apparently dropped something in the soapy water. “Of course you were.”

Josh went quiet, mulling the decision to give her another of his contact details over like he was tasting fine wine. He had done that once when his sisters were alive, they all agreed it had been pretty dumb. “…Sure, I have Skype. I can’t be fucked to type anything though.”

“I figured. I was going to suggest a voice call anyway so that you can hear the music. You’ll like it, I promise.”

A voice call? Huh..He couldn’t actually remember the last time he had listened to any music. Sammy was a good persuader. “Fine. Let me drag my ass out of bed first.” That was easier said than done. It had taken him around five minutes but Sam was patient. Once he had dragged himself to his desk after what had been a couple of weeks away from it, he turned on his laptop and opened up Skype.

“My Skype name’s BombshellBlonde.” She informed. He didn't doubt that she was exactly that.

He found her after a couple seconds of searching and added her to his contacts. The mouse hovered over the call button, unsure if he wanted to move this fast. Well, it was just like a phone call, only hands free, he assured himself.

“Are you okay? We don’t have to if you don’t want to.” Came Sam’s concerned voice at his long pause.

Josh shook his head, still staring at the call button intensely. “I'm good.”

“Okay, if you say so.” A sound reminding him of a bubble blared from his computer followed by a loud, parroted calling noise. He quickly turned down the volume and the brightness of the screen. After, he clicked ‘accept’ from the two options and waited for the crackling white noise to die down.

“He…osh…can…ear…me?” Sounded from his monitor.

He was about to answer when Sam spoke, or tried to speak again. “..ait.. Gimme… econd.” There was some fumbling through the static before it mostly cleared much to Josh’s relief and nervousness.

“I thought I lost you for a second.” He said after some hesitation.

“Same here. Can you hear the music now?” Sam asked, turning the sound up a notch.

It was a pop song, one he had heard before somewhere but couldn't quite put his finger on.

_'Saturday night and we in the spot_

_Don’t believe me just watch’_

Oh. “Uptown Funk? Really?” He queried. 

“If you don’t like this song then I don’t believe you.” She joked, another clink sounding from her sink. She was right, everything was much clearer now aside from the static, thankfully Josh wasn't having one of his bad ear days. *****

“I didn't say I didn't. I just thought you’d be more of a 'shake it off’ kind of girl. Is this on repeat?” He asked, stretching out his arms and sighing at the satisfying pop that sounded after being cooped up in the same position for so long.

“Maybe. And I didn't say I wasn't.” She counteracted, her sass making the corners of his lips twitch up into a small smile.

“Touché”

Another week crawled by, they had been voice calling for a couple of hours whenever Sam was on the computer or talking on the phone when Sam was running errands away from it.

Today she had contacted him, drop calling to let him know that she was online. After coaxing himself out of bed he took his seat at his desk and opened his laptop, accepting her Skype call like he usually did.

“Hey Josh, guess what?” Sam asked, the joyfulness in her tone gave enough away for him to guess.

“You got the puppy?” He felt a dimmed kind of excitement build in his nerves at the possibility, an emotion that had seemed alien to him over the past three months. Josh rested his chin atop his folded arms, waiting for her to continue.

“I got the puppy.” He heard a giggle from the other end of the call. “He looks like a little fox with a fluffy, curly tail! Apparently he’s a Jack Russell crossed with something else. I rescued him from a shelter, they said he was a year old but I think he’s only six months to be honest.” Sam said, pausing to hush a sharp, protesting yap from behind her.

"What happened to him? Does he have a name?" Josh asked, straining his hearing to try and make out what was happening as the high-pitched barking continued.

"He was called Harvey but I changed his name to Max, it suits him more. Besides, it makes for great nicknames." She answered, taking a moment to talk to the dog.

"Like what?"

"Maximus, Maximum Capacity, Maximus Foximus, Maxi pad.."

Josh scrunched his nose up slightly at the last one, feeling disgusted and amused at the same time, the corners of his mouth twitching up.

"Here, I'll let him introduce himself." There was a rustling and some static before a loud sniffing and another ear-piecing yap sounded from the speakers.

Josh moved back from his laptop as if it could actually smell him, turning the volume down. "Hey Max." He greeted at the screen.

Sam chucked, the sound dying down into something sad. "Apparently he was found in a tiny apartment all on his own, his owner had passed away and whether he was left with them for a few days or he was just kept there for the neighbours to look after, they aren't sure. They said he has separation anxiety because of that but we'll work through it." She explained, a collar jingling as she spoke.

"Oh." He didn't know what to say. There wasn't anything he could say about that really. He knew he had suffered with it when he was a child but had long since grown used to being left in his mansion of a house alone 90% of the time. He had had a phase of it coming back too after Chris left but it had grown and evolved into minor form of generalised anxiety disorder. But that couldn't exactly be helped, so he told himself.

Which is why three months later, when Sam hadn't answered any of his calls, he began to feel the terribly familiar knotting building up in his gut again. 

He told himself it wasn't a big deal. He knew that she had her final exams coming up in College, she was probably too swamped with work to talk to him. He had followed her advice from before and rummaged around in the kitchen, found a tin of baked beans and, after warming it up, ate its contents out of the tin while watching Netflix. She always reminded ~~made damned well sure~~ he ate at least one meal a day, even if it was just a small tin of something. She was good to him like that, if a little motherly. He wished she would call.

Two days had passed. Still nothing.

The knot of anxiety tightened like a noose around his neck.

He missed her.

On the third day he got a phone call. It wasn't from Sam but a number he didn't know or recognise. Hoping it was her anyway he took a deep breath and pressed answer.

"Hello, is this Josh Washington?"

"...Yeah?" He answered, already feeling dread well up inside of him.

"I'm calling from Cedars-Sinai Medical Centre, as one of Samantha Bree's emergency contacts I need inform you that she has been in a car accident."

"Okay." Was the only reply Josh could manage.

He stared at the dormer above him, his expression one of horrified shock. A million thoughts raced though his head all at once, clouding and cramming into his head like an over-stuffed pillow. _How could this happen? How bad were her injuries? Would she be okay? Would she be the same ray of sunshine after this? What about Max? How could she do this to him? Why did she have to go and get herself hurt? What if she lost an arm or something? Was she even still alive?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ***** A reference to one of my other fics called Hearing Damadge, I recommend it for more angsty (and fuffly) Josh
> 
> My apologies if it seems rushed, I'm still figuring out the plot for this story but I hope it's still enjoyable either way. As always, kudos and comments (especially) make my day and help motivate me to write more!
> 
> Thank you for reading.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “..What happened to her?”

“..What happened to her?” Josh settled on, feeling like his heart was about to burst out of his chest with how fast it was beating.

“A drunk driver swerved and hit the side of her car. She has a broken elbow, rib and minor stomach injuries but she’s in a stable condition and is recovering slowly.” The calm voice informed him.

He felt some of his anxieties begin to die down briefly, knowing that she was still very alive. "Okay." He repeated.

He needed to talk to her, or someone close to her at least. He knew she was in no condition to sit and talk for a while but he needed to make sure she was okay one way or another. "Do you have the number of her roommate? She must have been to the hospital at some point.”

There was a ‘I'm-not-getting-paid-enough-to-deal-with-this-today-sigh’ from the caller before he answered in a warn out, formal tone. “Mr Washington I am not obliged to give the numbers of former patients away.”

Josh carded his fingers through his hair in frustration and worry, chewing on the inside of his cheek as he thought of a solution to the problem he had made. “Look Mr…”

“Doctor Ridgewall.”

“Look Dr. Ridgewall, I have the kind of money and position that you wouldn't know what to do with. If you do this for me then I can bump up your salary and earn you a bonus so large you can go on holiday months early. Please consider this.”

There was a long pause. Josh could nearly hear the cogs turning in his head as he weighed up his offer. “Just so you know I don’t usually do this but I’ll give you their number. If I get I trouble I'm blaming you.” They replied in a hushed tone.

Josh reached over to his bedside table and pulled out a notepad and a pen from one of his draws, scribbling down the number hastily. He uttered a thank you before hanging up the call.

He tapped in the number scrawled upon the paper as quickly as he could with shaking hands, prodding the caller button before he realised he had done so. He pressed the device to his ear and wrapped his free arm around his knees, pulling them tight against his chest while he distressed about what he was going to say. He didn't even know her roommate's name for crying out loud. He just preyed that they wouldn't hang up on him as soon as they picked up the phone.

He worried at his lower lip as he was answered with a simple "Hello?"

"I-is this Sam's roommate speaking?" He asked, speaking around the lump in his throat.

"..Do I know you?" The voice replied after a moment's hesitation. They sounded feminine, their tone a similarly stressed shell of their original.

"Uh..No? Probably not. I'm calling a-about Sam, I'm a friend of hers I think." He fumbled with the material of his hoodie, trying to ground himself while being so far out of his comfort zone.

"You're not a stalker are you?" They cautioned, making Josh want to curl in on himself with how bold they were, past the stress behind their tone he could just hear how large an ego they had. He wasn't used to dealing with people in general nowadays, let alone someone like this.

"No, I'm not a stalker."

"Then how did you get my number?" They had a good point.

"That's none of your concern." He heard them scoff on the other side of the line.

" _Suuure_. Sam isn't around right now. Who are you and what do you want." They demanded, sounding less than unimpressed with him.

"I'm Josh Washington, I-"

"Woah, wait, hold the hell up. You're Josh Washington? Bob Washington's boy?"

"Yeah-"

"I am not _that_ dumb. Tell me who you really are or I'll hang up." God, this person was becoming less threatening and more irritating by the second.

Josh huffed out a frustrated sigh and carded his fingers through his thick hair again, trying to think something else. "Did-did Sam never mention anyone called Josh to you? I speak to her every day."

There was a sharp gasp and a "Oh! Wait- shit, _you're_ 'internet Josh'?" The voice sounded both both awestruck and disbelieving and he could already feel a headache coming on.

"Yeah."

" _You're internet Josh_?" They asked again much to his annoyance.

"Yes. I heard Sam was in an accident."

The line went quiet, the next time they spoke the voice sounded far from enthusiastic. "Yeah..She's fine but they're saying it'll take her a while to recover."

Josh's heart sank, the dread of not being able to talk to her washing over him again. "How long?"

"They don't know, the nurses say she'll be let out as soon as her rib and stomach starts healing up so it could be anywhere from a few days to a couple of weeks depending." 

Josh nodded to himself, biting his lip as the dread slowly crushed down on his chest. He gulped, wiping his eyes with the cuff of his sleeve.

"Hey, are you okay? My name's Jessica by the way."

"Fine. How's Max?" He was so damned far from fine.

"He's fine, he's being a monster to look after but me and my boyfriend have got it covered. He pooped on the arm of the sofa and completely shredded up my new boots last night, the ass." There was a hint of fondness in her annoyed tone, the story drawing out a choked-up bark of laughter from him, surprising both himself and Jessica. It only ended up tightening the knot in his throat even more so. Oh no. No no no.

"I have to go." He hardly caught her farewell before he hung up on her. He choked on a shocked gasp, a sudden wave of nausea taking over him as the realisation dawned on him once more.

He was alone.

He didn't have anyone to talk to and he wasn't about to drag Chris into something that wasn't his to worry about and his parents certainly wouldn't come back because he felt like he was slipping up again, even if he asked them to they'd make an excuse. After all, they had proved that they'd rather spare their benevolence towards a charity dinner than comfort their hindrance of a son many a time before the twins had even died.

The hallucinations were going to get worse now as they did with stress, he knew the breathing exercises weren't doing to work as well as Sam's voice had and he didn't know when he was going to hear it again. He didn't know anything about healing injuries but what if they had to operate on her stomach? what if she died in surgery and- 'just get a hold of yourself, you're going to make yourself sicker than you already are.' replayed his therapist in his head on loop.

People say 'things get worse before they get better'. That was, until things got worse again, wasn't it?

The next few days felt like an eternity. Each one was a dragged-out hell of drifting in and out of consciousness. He couldn't tell the difference, the hours blending into each other as a tape would in a cassette, one long stream of hours and minutes and seconds, painted with colourful insults from his sisters and therapist under and over his covers. He would get up and wander about the house sometimes but would decide against doing so when he saw one of them standing in a corridor or up a staircase. When he wasn't staring up at his ceiling or ignoring his tormentors, he was sleeping or picking at food packaging after he had begrudgingly forced some form of nutrition down his throat. He wasn't about to have Sammy get mad at him when she could talk again, if she could talk again.

Four days after getting any phone calls, he was in bed, laying awake behind closed eyelids as had been doing all day, when a protesting ringing came from atop of his bedside table. He shot out from under the covers and grabbed it before cocooning himself and winced at the screen's brightness.

Several vision-adjusting blinks later he made out the name of the caller. He pressed the button gingerly, his heart thudding in his ears as he put the call on speaker and accepted it.

"Sammy?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think you'll all be happy to know that I am looking into and discussing a secure plot with my writing alpha between chapters! As always, kudos and comments (especially) make my day and help motivate me to write more!
> 
> Thank you for reading.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "..Josh?" Came a strained but hopeful voice.
> 
> Josh's eyes widened, drawing the phone close to his face, his breathing hitched. "Sammy? Please tell me you're not dead."

“…Sammy?”

“Sorry hon, who’s Sammy? One of your little friends?” His mother replied in a raised voice, speaking over loud music and chatter.

His heart sank, the voice making him want to shrivel up and disappear. “Uh…I guess-”

“That’s lovely! Anyways, I wanted to let you know that me and your father are very busy over here in Florida so were extending our business trip by a month.”

Josh was used to this, it didn't make it any harder when he repeated “ _A month?_ ” in a quiet tone, ignoring the crack in his voice.

“See, your father told me you’d understand! I have to go now but I’ll call you next week. More food will be delivered on Monday, love you hon, bye!”

Josh listened as the line went dead. Monday was four days away and he was sure that 90% of the food in the house currently had remained untouched. Whatever, he’d find the motivation to answer the door one way or another. Once he got a clear look at the number, confirming that he really hadn't missed a call from Sam at the same time as his mother, he let the device slip from his fingers and onto the mattress carelessly, staring up at the blanket covering his head blankly.

He was so, so tired.

A few hours later he woke up to the sound of his phone ringing urgently. He reached out, less enthusiastic then the last time it had rung, dragging it over and away from the corner of the bed.

He answered it with a dull " _What_ ".

"..Josh?" Came a strained but hopeful voice.

Josh's eyes widened, drawing the phone close to his face, his breathing hitched. "Sammy? Please tell me you're not dead." He didn't care if he was being dumb, with his hallucinations getting more realistic by the day he wanted to be sure. The voices never answered him directly, always replaying something or tormenting but never replying accurately to his pleads for understanding.

"No, I'm not dead." Sam replied with a wheezed chuckle and a muffled "Ow", taking his question as a joke.

Josh breathed out a huge sigh, wanting to cry with relief. He rolled over onto his back and sat the phone on his chest, propped up with the back of his hand to see the screen. "Good. That's really fucking good. I thought I lost you." He answered honestly.

"Same here...How are you?"

It was his turn to chuckle-gasp in disbelief for a moment. "How are _you_."

There came a cough from the speaker and another pained grunt, Sam's voice quieter and more strained than before. "As fine as I can be I guess. Sorry for not calling, apparently I was out for a few days."

Josh felt his chest tighten with guilt, his eyebrows knitting together in concern at the discovery. She had been sleeping for days while he had been moping around and blaming her for his misery, by the way she sounded he was surprised she was even talking to him in her state. "You sound like shit." He said bluntly, the guilt eating away at him each time she talked.

He was so selfish, he was concerned about her well being but he chose the safety net of listening to her worn, pained voice rather than letting her heal up and talk when she was better able to.

There was another wheeze and a cough, Josh interrupted her before she could utter another word. "I mean it. If..If you're not well enough we don't have to call." He really hoped the disappointment in his tone was untraceable but at the same time he really hoped she would be as determined as she always was about getting around problematic situations.

"No...I want to talk... Wait, I have an idea. I could type...and you can talk?" She suggested.

Huh. He hadn't thought of that before. It was so simple, how couldn't he have? "Okay."

Josh waited patiently for her reply, moving part of his blanket out from under himself to make him more comfortable. He looked up at the bubble-sound and read her message.

BombshellBlonde: Good, i think my voice was starting to die tbh [21:34:16]

"I'm not surprised." It was strange talking to writing, like reading a book aloud, only knowing that it could hear you.

BombshellBlonde: Me neither [21:35:00]

BombshellBlonde: I missed you [21:35:20]

Josh felt his heart do the clenching thing again, making him bite the inside of his cheek to stop himself saying something stupid. He was half tempted to ask how she had, surprised that he wasn't just being a pesky burden to her. It took him a couple of minutes to coax a sensible reply out of himself. "I missed you too."

BombshellBlonde: I gathered [21:38:40]

BombshellBlonde: Have you been taking care of yourself? [21:39:02]

Josh let out an over-dramatic groan, making another wheeze ring from his phone. "I've made sure to eat at least one thing a day."

BombshellBlonde: Good! Told you it wasnt that hard [21:41:03]

"You have no idea how hard it was Sammy. That's what they said."

Another chuckle sounded followed by a sharp hiss.

"Sorry I'll try to stop making you laugh." He couldn't help it really, he needed to do something to acknowledge the weight of worry being lifted millimetre by millimetre off of his chest. He was only slightly sorry.

BombshellBlonde: You'd better you ass [21:45:15]

"No promises."

Around 10PM Sam had announced that she was tired and they had decided to continue the conversation tomorrow if Sam was feeling up to it. For the first time in a week Josh slept devoid of any dreams, bad or otherwise.

It was a week later after she had gotten discharged from hospital and gotten home safely, when something began to change within their usual conversations. It all started with Sam asking for tidbits of information about his appearance every now and again. At first he brushed it off as her wanting another topic to distract herself from her current condition and made a dirty joke about her curiosity. When she had said that she was serious and asked him about what he looked like he had replied with "Gross" and "In need of a thousand years sleep". When she had questioned about what he was wearing he had insisted it was "Comfy, also gross and in need of a thousand years wash". She had wheeze-laughed and replied something along the lines of "Ugh that's disgusting, Josh!" in a tone that made him think of her lightly slapping his arm. It sounded like something she would do.

Come to think of it, he didn't know what to imagine her as. He pictured her as a blonde, admittedly partly because of her Skype name but other than that he hadn't the faintest idea. He hadn't really thought about it before but now that he was trying to decipher it, he couldn't stop it from playing on his mind.

This worried him, he wanted to see her but.

_Shit._

Ten days later she came up with the question of having "a video call? It's been around four months and believe it or not I like to know what my good friends look like." She hadn't suggested it in a demanding tone but it still sent a feeling of nervousness prickling through him, not the good kind mind you.

"...I really don't think that's a good idea Sammy."

"Oh... I mean, maybe after I'm better or something then...?"

No, no no he hadn't meant it like that, he couldn't care less if she was still healing up, he fucked up, he fucked up.

"No- I didn't- I don't care about your injuries." _Fuck._ "Wait, no, I didn't mean that either I just. I-I have to go." He quickly cut her off in a panic, gripping his phone in his hands and wincing at his brash decision. She was going to be so pissed at him. Or maybe she wasn't, he couldn't think straight right now.

Sam was actually someone he cared about, he didn't want to drive her away and explaining why he wasn't going to video chat would just make things complicated and he wasn't about to tell her about _that_ yet, no matter how much he trusted her. If he just agreed she might have a heart attack if they ended up face-timing and she was supposed to be getting better and...

Godamnit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woah this chapter was fun to write! As always, kudos and comments (especially) make my day and help motivate me to write more!
> 
> Thank you for reading.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He sat in front of his laptop, the mouse hovering over the call button, his doubt and anxiety building with each second. “Fuck, okay here goes everything.” Josh muttered to himself and clicked on it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I recommend listening to **[this](https://youtu.be/5zmpuiLzCRY?t=5s)** song for the first part of this chapter.

Josh woke up the next day with the feeling of cotton in his mouth. 

He grimaced and sat up slowly, looking over to the crack of light seeping in though his blinds to see that it was in fact morning. When was the last time he’d cleaned his teeth? Or had a shower for that matter?  He crinkled his nose in disgust when he realized couldn’t find an answer.

With that in mind he decided to shuffle through his room, grabbed another, clean hoodie as he exited the doorway and made his way slowly to the nearest bathroom which thankfully was just down the hall.

Josh locked the door behind himself, still wary of any intruders even though he was well aware of how alone he was in the silent house. He brushed his teeth twice and gurgled mouthwash for extra measure. He had taken a lengthy shower, scrubbed his hair vigorously to remove all of the grease that had built up. He sighed pleasantly, his mind wandered aimlessly as he allowed himself finally relax into the soothing stream of not-too-hot-not-quite-warm water. 

After getting dried, dressed and somewhat cozy, Josh leaned his hands on the porcelain sink and exhaled slowly, lifting his face to look at the mirror that hid a cupboard behind it. 

He never went out of his way to look at his reflection, in fact, he tried to avoid it as much as possible since The Accident which probably didn’t help because a year on the person looking back at him was still recognized as a familiar stranger to him.  

Josh’s eyes flitted around his mirrored face, automatically landing on his mouth.  

Where a model-perfect smile once stretched across Hollywood-white teeth, it had now twisted into something nightmarish. Two thin, raised lines started from the split in his upper lip, over his canine and from the right corner of his mouth. They ran jaggedly up his cheekbone and the latter stopped near the Tragus of his ear. The scars stuck out like chalk on a blackboard, the flesh lighter and more pronounced there by the darker patch of skin that covered half of his mouth and cheek.    
His gaze lifted to his eyes next, focusing on the right. Another scar followed the line of one of the bags under his eye, the skin also darker around part of it. He briefly noted the small scar that marked his forehead, the one that hadn’t needed a skin graft.  
 

He chewed his lower lip absentmindedly, staring back at his mismatched eyes. They were both green as they always had been but his damaged one had taken on a lighter tone, the pupil blown permanently wide and dulled like a dead fish’s eye. If he closed his good eye, the world would be bathed in red, movements like bright-white silhouettes helped to guide him around.  Once he had finished studying himself he hung his head and closed his eyes slowly, trying to clear his head of undesired thoughts. 

This, however, was his first mistake.  

His second was leaving the corner of the small rug upturned after he pushed it towards the shower.  

All of a sudden he began to feel light-headed. 

He was roughly shoved back, the cup of alcohol in his hand knocked onto the floor as he lost his balance. Everything felt crystal clear, the horrified gasps in front him and alarmed swears cut though the air as he waved his arms wildly and tried desperately to regain his footing. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up, fear cursing though his veins as he watched the faceless partygoers disappear from view and suddenly he could see the ground rushing up to meet him.  

A cry caught in his throat and all the breath was knocked out of him the moment his body slammed into the pavement.  His face felt wet and could taste the sharp, metallic tang of copper in his mouth; red-hot, searing pain scorched through his nerves. He dully heard his scream of agony being released over the pounding in his head as he blinked glass out of his eye. 

He couldn’t see right.  

What he had left of his blotchy, red-washed vision faded rapidly around the hazy corners and he passed out.  

When Josh awoke, he found that the pounding had died down if only a little. He opened his eyes and blinked up at his blurred bathroom ceiling. He made to sit up on the bath-rug but another strong wave of vertigo sent his head reeling. He dropped his head back onto the cushion his dirtied hoodie had provided. 

It wasn’t the first time this had happened before, it probably wouldn’t be his last.

He laid still for quarter of an hour, recalling the advice he’d read about online a while ago.  Once his vision ceased its swimming, he checked himself for any injuries.  

None that he could see or feel. Good.  

He ever so slowly pulled himself up into a sitting position, using the glass of the shower pane to assist him and turned around to lean heavily against it. After he rested his head back against the cool glass, his fingers dug his phone out of his jean pocket. He didn’t need to look at the screen to tap in the number of his friend.

“…Hey Sammy.”

“Josh? Are you okay? You were acting really weird last time we talked, I’ve been worried about you.” Was Sam’s answer upon the first ring, her voice sounding her concern.

First confusion, then realization, finally relief. She wasn’t angry at him. Of course she wasn’t, this was Sammy. His Sammy wouldn’t get annoyed at him hanging up without any explanation, he was just over-reacting. “Uhhh…Yeah..‘Bout that, s'rry I flipped out.”

“Josh, it’s fine, please tell what’s wrong?”

He looked around the bathroom again, trying to un-jumble his thoughts to make coherent sentences. “I..Mmm…IIII…Kind'f j'st fainted.”

He could practically hear the alarm bells ringing in Sam’s head. “Are you okay?” She repeated, if more urgently.

“Yeah…Dunno why.” He lied. “M'head landed on my hoodie…I’m not hurt or anything. J'st dizzy.

He heard Sam huff out her worry in a long sigh. "Move slowly and drink plenty of juice, try and eat something sweet. Take it easy today.”

Josh knew what to do anyway but he didn’t want to steal her thunder and announce it, instead he asked “…Since when did you become a doctor?”

Sam breathed a staticky laugh that held little mirth against his ear and replied with “My mom is a nurse, I picked some things up from being around her.”

That made sense, despite her motherly concern he could see why she would worry about his health. Maybe that was the reason she hadn’t hung up on him in the first place when they had first talked all those months ago?

Josh made a sound to confirm that he was listening and pulled himself up slowly using the stretch of glass behind him once more.

“I’ll check up on you every hour okay? Just in case you feel faint again.” Sam decided, her question holding the promise of stability but giving him a chance to turn her down if he was feeling well enough. If his head weren’t so jumbled still he would have been nearly flattered at that train of thought.

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll talk later, ’m gonna go get a drink.”

One wobbly quest to the kitchen, a chocolate bar and a glass of orange juice later, Josh felt his head start to level out properly again. Or so he had thought. Upon exiting the kitchen and making his way through the hall he passed a dark shadow in the corner of his eye that made him pause mid-step. He turned to to face the object with a comforting sense of nostalgia, memories already beginning to flood his mind.

It was a door. 

A simple, brown door that could have easily been mistaken as any other in the house if he wasn’t so familiar with its difference.

He turned and pushed on the brass handle to peer down into the pitch void of the worn staircase. His father in all his enthusiasm for the horror genre had purposely made the staircase itself feel old and unstable, a few of the steps creaking loudly when walked on and unnervingly steep. It felt like walking into a horror movie. He would have been wary walking down them if he hadn’t been so adapted to it all.

The prop room itself was dark and eerie, the perfect setting for a terrible something to jump out of the racks upon racks of costumes and stacks of boxes. Josh turned on the light near the stairway and stepped into the wide space. He had spent a lot of time down here, most of it daydreaming of owning his own room like this with his own proud shelf of films he’d made, and another part as an escape from everything.

He looked up at the shelves full of every film he could begin to recognize, his hand reaching out to run along one rack of clothing, his fingertips catching on the odd piece of lace or dancing over rich silk and cool metal.

It was then when an idea sparked to life in his head so abruptly he had to pause to keep from swaying.

It was brilliant. Flawless.

He rummaged through the rack and grabbed a couple of accessories to complete his plan.

Josh took that back after about two minutes of tugging the costume on. This was a dumb idea.

He sat in front of his laptop, the mouse hovering over the call button, his doubt and anxiety building with each second. “Fuck, okay here goes everything.” Josh muttered to himself and clicked on it.

Sam accepted the call immediately and went into mother bear mode just as quickly. “Hey Josh, are you okay? Are you feeling any better? Have you drank anything?”

“Yeah, don’t worry. Sammy, look, you know how you wanted to video call me yesterday and I chickened out?”

There was a pause. “Yeah?” She sounded hopeful, curious and just a bit concerned, though that was understandable really. If only she knew.

“Well…You know how Halloween is coming up?” Shit, he probably shouldn’t have rushed through imagining how this conversation would go.

“Yeah?” Sam repeated.

“Okay so you know how my dad has this huge-ass cellar full of props and stuff from his movies? Well, I picked a costume out. I want your verdict but I’ve gotta warn you beforehand that you might be the one fainting this time.” Maybe not for the better either. He hoped his confident humor hid any trace of nervousness in his voice and he fiddled with some of the ruffled lacing of his sleeve.

“Me, fainting, really? I don’t think you’ll be that suffocating.” Scoffed Sam, a smile evident in her voice.

“Sammy please, I’ve needled my way under your skin already, how hard can it be?”

“Oh my god, are we really making puns right now? Is that a thing we’re actually doing?”

“I don’t know but that one was a killer.”

There came an undignified snort in amusement followed by a muffled snigger followed by a sarcastic "Har-dy-har." Josh’s own chuckle joined in for a minute before another silence fell over them, tense with apprehension.

If he had thought that he felt butterflies swirling around his insides before, then he didn’t know the reality of the feeling. He felt sick, and he wasn’t sure if it was worry or excitement buzzing through his nerves that was making his finger shake as the mouse hovered over the camera button. He couldn’t deal with this, mostly because he didn’t know _how_ to deal with it, if he took too long he’d chicken out and this would have all been for nothing and if he did go through with it-

Josh took a deep breath, closed his eyes and stopped the worry in it’s tracks.

At the end of the day, he didn’t want to not video call her. So he exhaled slowly and thought to himself 'fuck it.’

He opened his eyes and tapped the mouse pad to click on the camera icon before he could change his mind. A screen filled the space where Sam’s icon had been, the picture blurry and unfocused. A soft, surprised “Oh.” Sounded from the monitor and the pixelated image cleared.

Oh.

The first thing he noted was that, yes, she was indeed a blonde. The second was her staring, wide-eyed at the picture of himself on her screen. She looked surprised and he was almost certain that he was mirroring her expression right now because _holy shit_.

This is Sam.

This is what Sam looks like.

She didn’t look like whatever fleeting image or feature that had popped into his head for half a second when he was listening to her, this is Sammy and she looks perfect. She didn’t look stunning or flawless, she looks normal and he couldn’t imagine picturing her as anything other than the reality.

And then she had glanced into the camera for a second and he had been wrong.

She was much more perfect than she had been a moment ago because there was a twinkle in her green eyes that spoke pleasant surprise and excitement and that kind of motherly-best-friend look he had imagined her making when she had scolded him for not eating but he must have been staring for too long because he realized after watching her mouth move around unheard words that he had missed what she’d said. “Uh..What?”

Sam blinked and her mouth shifted into to a grin and he had to concentrate extra hard to listen to her because her smile was made of embodied sunshine and he was in danger of it dazzling him. “I said your costume looks amazing!” She repeated, her eyes smiling as much as her mouth and he suddenly felt light-headed again only partly because of his earlier fainting and mostly because she wasn’t cringing or doing that awkward thing where strangers gawk at you like you’re some freak show but then again, Sammy wasn’t a stranger, was she?

Maybe that’s what made his nerves double all of a sudden and he really wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing. “You think so?”

Sam nodded enthusiastically and glanced fleetingly into the camera again. “I _know_ so. The detail on the eyepatch is just..And the make up, holy cow, it looks real! You look pretty darn amazing.”

Josh felt something similar to but stronger than appreciation well up inside of him, lifting a heavy heart an inch or two in his own jumble of pleasant surprise. She thought he looked amazing, not 'well’ or 'terrifying’ or somewhere in-between. “I. Hm…Thanks I guess. Glad you think so. The eyepatch was hand-stitched straight from Hollywood.”

“You’re Joshing me?” Sam pressed, leaning in closer to get a better look.

“Heh, no, really. Careful though, this costume’s a winner, just wait until I give you the smolder.” He joked, tilting his head slightly and revealing a smile that once gained attention from girls, guys and others alike.

Sam’s grin widened and she raised her arm to her forehead, pretending to swoon before snorting and bursting into giggles. She may have looked like an actress but acting certainly wasn’t her forte, he thought quietly to himself.

Josh’s smile grew into a grin of his own and he added in a wink with his visible eye for extra measure, the abnormal joy bubbling in his chest overflowing and spilling as yet more giggles.

Their laughter continued for a time, died down slowly and they started to talk about anything and everything as if nothing was unique about their conversation - and in reality, it wasn’t. They spoke as they had every day, only this time they could spend the time quietly studying each other's reactions and body language. Josh had asked her about her elbow and glanced at the thick, white strap of her sling over the opposite shoulder to the injury pointedly, she insisted that she was fine and it would be healed within a few weeks, as would her rib. Some of his worry subsided and they continued talking as normal.

Maybe one day, if he thought of a new plan to continue their video calling and keep her in the dark about his scars, he would be able to come clean about them without as much drama as showing them to her the first time they saw each other without a form of cover-up would have been. Or maybe it would be worse? Whatever, he could worry about that later.

Now though, he actually had to work out that plan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much everyone for waiting so patiently over past few months, I hope my illustrated gift to you all has made up for the postponed update! I couldn't have done it without you ongoing support and enthusiasm for this story, I'm truly honored to have such wonderful fans, bless you all! <3 
> 
> Please click **[here](http://spellfire01.tumblr.com/image/137171169498)** for a more detailed version of the illustration.
> 
> As per usual, kudos and comments (especially) make my day and help motivate me to write more! 
> 
> Thank you for reading.


End file.
